Run
by Rabidnar
Summary: Darrien escapes from prison, but not only is she on the run from the police and an angry drug-dealer, she's seeking revenge on the two people who put her in jail to begin with.
1. Chapter 1

I've had enough requests, that I will do another Chirteen fic. I can't promise updates as fast as my previous one, because this fic will hopefully be much more detailed and in-depth. The first chapter is more of a prologue, so I hope the chapters will get longer. Dedicated to Noelle and Chase. Enjoy!  
>p.s.: Am I spelling Darrien right? Does she have a known last name? If so, please let me know and I'll change things. I wasn't sure.<p>

**Disclaimer: **I don't own House MD or these characters.

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

Of all of the bars in Princeton, The Turn Around was probably the cleanest. Unfortunately for Remy, that was about all it had going for it. The owner liked things neat. In fact, he was rather well renowned for it, if his nickname of "The Cleaning Nazi" among his janitorial staff and other lesser peons he was forced to work with was anything to go by. It was located on the edge of town, nestled in the middle of a clump of trees on a dead-end road. The parking lot had once been a field and was still home to a rusted Dead End sign that was now bent at an angle; no one had gone out of their way to remove it.

"Another drink?" The bartender leaned against the bar, absently tapping his fingers against the polished wood. He was young, probably no older than twenty-three, the part time job college boy type. The sleeve of his white button-down shirt had a red wine stain on it and his black dress pants looked like they hadn't been ironed in over a century.

After a moment of staring into her empty shot glass, Remy glanced up. "Yeah," she answered with a slight smile. "Thanks…" She glanced at his nametag. "Thanks, Ryan."

He poured more Vodka into her glass then slipped the bottle back under the bar. "Enjoy." He winked at her then turned and walked away to wait on another lone customer.

It was only her second drink. Needless to say, she wasn't drunk even considering the hour she had been sitting there. It hadn't been a long day that she needed to drink to forget, just a night she didn't want to return home alone to her apartment. There were a lot of those. The bar was empty on a Wednesday night though, so she sat there staring at the flat screen TV that hung above a case of liquor bottles.

"And now for Top News at Eleven." The two news anchors sat side by side in blue and gray room with a large glass table in front of them. Their news reports lay neatly in front of them in manila folders and the male anchor held a sheet of paper.

Remy adjusted herself on the barstool and straightened out her light purple shirt under her suspenders. She gripped the shot glass between her fingers and absently swirled the alcohol around, careful not to spill it. Usually some kind of ballgame was playing, but it was late and heavy spring rainstorms across most of the US had washed out several of the latest sports games.

"A manhunt has begun in Princeton, New Jersey for an escaped prisoner," the male anchor stated.

"The woman broke out of her cell several hours ago, and News Anchor Rachel Brown is there now to give you the latest," the female continued before a screen on their wall lit up and yet another anchor stood with a microphone under a street lamp. "Now what can you tell us about this woman? Is she considered dangerous?"

"Well, Linda, the woman wasn't in jail for particularly violent offenses, but police have warned the public that she is thought to be armed and should not be approached," the on-scene anchor answered. "Darrien McCurdy escaped from the prison just a few hours ago." Darrien's mug shot appeared on the screen.

"Jesus," Remy whispered under her breath and shook her head. She took a sip from her glass then put it down and leaned forward with her forearms rested on the bar. She rubbed her face then dropped her hand back down and took another look at the photo, her stomach dropping a bit. After turning in the woman who was once her friend, she never found out how many years her new sentence had given her, but this would only increase the chances she'd never get out now.

"She was discovered missing nearly thirty minutes after her escape, during a routine attendance check. Police say she may have fled in a red late model Ford Falcon that was reported missing from a nearby area about an hour ago. A police hunt is now underway." The screen went from Darrien's face back to the anchor. "The commissioner Ted Fletcher has ordered an inquiry into the escape and a review of all other prisoners in the facility."

"Now, Rachel, this is the second jail breakout in Princeton this week," the male continued, but Remy didn't want to hear anymore. Forcing herself to tear her eyes away from the TV, she lifted her shot glass against her parted lips then tilted her head back. The liquor slid down her throat in a single swallow and she leaned forward and put the glass down again then dug around in her pockets for some cash.

"Leaving so soon?" Ryan asked, stepping back over. He took the money from her then handed her her change, after counting it twice to make sure he was giving her the right amount. "I could always change the channel to the good programs." The look on his face made it clear he knew how boring the place could get and that the TV wasn't doing much to help.

She managed a light laugh. "Thanks, but I need to get out of here," she replied, pushing her change back into her pocket. "Work in the morning," she explained. He was cute. Young and probably gay, but cute.

"Ah," was his only response and he sent the TV a slight glance before looking back again. "Drive home safe."

"You too." She stood from her seat and walked across the room, pushing the doors open then stepping out in the night air. It was a harsh but welcome change from the muggy air in the bar. After a brief inhale then exhale, she grabbed her keys and jingled them in her hand as she made her way to her car. The light from the bar barely illuminated the parking lot, so she hit the 'unlock' button just to see her headlights light up.

After managing to do a slight hop over a large puddle, she stopped by the driver's side door and lifted her keys. Her car key strategically had a green, plastic cover on it specifically for nights like this. It took less than a second to find and she held it between her fingers then gripped her door handle.

Out of nowhere, her body was shoved up against the door and her face smashed against the window. The keys dropped to the asphalt with a loud clatter. "What the -" Before Remy could continue, a hand covered her mouth and the barrel of a gun pressed hard against her temple. Her breath caught in her throat and she considered trying to turn around, but the click of the gun rooted her to her spot.

A face appeared in the reflection of the mirror as her attacker leaned forward to whisper a familiar voice in her ear.

"Now don't do anything stupid, Remy, or I _will_ shoot you."


	2. Chapter 2

**A Wilde Handful: **Glad you like it!  
><strong>Hopelily: <strong>Thanks! You're a big help! I was getting frustrated 'cause I couldn't figure it out for the life of me. Ha.  
><strong>Chase: <strong>Two words: Thank you!  
><strong>Lucky13: <strong>Thanks! Hope you enjoy it!  
><strong>Jennio: <strong>I'm not much of a 'damsel in distress' type person. Hopefully this will work out better.  
><strong>Christine: <strong>Hope you continue to enjoy it!  
><strong>Pandacat: <strong>I hope you enjoy it!  
><strong>Awesome: <strong>Thank you so much! I hope you continue to enjoy it!  
><strong>Arianna: <strong>Thanks! Hope you like it!  
><strong>Miralinda: <strong>I hope you continue to enjoy it. And I hope I don't get too ooc with this fic. I'm marking it your job to let me know if I do!  
><strong>Athyna: <strong>Thank you, esp for the compliment on SF. I worked hard on that story. Hopefully this one will match up.  
><strong>Charmed: <strong>Well, I'm a big fan of violence so hopefully this meets your expectations! Lol. I'm not a big fan of Chirteen, so hopefully I can keep other non-Chirteen ppl drawn in. Chase is okay...er...not my favorite character. I'm kinda nervous to write him.  
><strong>Noelle: <strong>Huzzah! 13th review! ...and, no, Chase isn't going to save her. Keep dreaming. xP  
><strong>M86: <strong>Hope you enjoy the update!

Thanks to **Vanamo** for beta'ing this. She does a wonderful job! Btw, if you haven't read her stories, I HIGHLY recommend them!  
>And thanks to <strong>RolyPolyQuorra <strong>for answering all my dumb House questions that I'm too lazy to look up myself.

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Remy sputtered. She could just barely make out Darrien's reflection in the mirror and the window. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out it was her though. She wanted to run, to turn around and knock the other woman to the ground then take off, but a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that there would be a bullet lodged in her skull if she tried anything.

Darrien took a step back, gripping the back of Remy's shirt and pulling her back. "You don't want to know how I got out?" she asked. "Or, better yet, how I found you?"

"You caught me as I was leaving work," Remy stated calmly, tilting her head down and staring at her keys. "Followed me here and waited until I came out. I don't really need to know how you escaped."

"I knew you were smart when I met you," Darrien said. Keeping the gun pointed at Remy, she knelt down and picked up her keys. "Lucky for you, that means I can use you." She held the keys out on her palm.

Remy pursed her lips together and pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth. She slowly took the keys, absently using her thumb to brush some of the gravel off of them. "Are you taking me hostage?" she asked, glancing up again and arching a brow at Darrien.

"That would imply I'm willing to offer you up for ransom," Darrien replied. "I'm not." She waved the gun in the general direction of the vehicle. "Get in the car."

"So you're kidnapping me." Remy's gaze followed the gun, her eyes widening a bit as the other woman's finger came dangerously near to the trigger. She wasn't sure if she was trying to process what was happening or buy herself some time. If she was lucky, Ryan would walk outside for a smoke break and -

"I said get in," Darrien demanded, shoving Remy back toward the door.

Almost on autopilot, Remy opened the car door. The gun was still pointed at her as Darrien walked around the front of the vehicle then let herself in on the passenger's side. Remy slid down into the seat then shut her door. She gripped the steering wheel with both hands, still holding her keys. "D…" she started.

Darrien shut her door then turned to face Remy. "Start the car," she commanded.

The gun was drawing her attention. It was rested on Darrien's lap, but the woman was still gripping tightly and it was still pointing directly at her. "We should talk about this," she stated firmly, not loosening her grip on the wheel. Her throat felt dry and she had to force her voice not to start wavering. Any sign of weakness was something that could potentially be used against her. "Look, if…"

Darrien lifted the gun and pressed the barrel back up against the other woman's temple. "Start the fucking car, Remy," she said slowly, resting her finger on the trigger. "Unless you want to be a passenger in the trunk, I suggest you listen to me."

"Okay," Remy whispered, fumbling with her keys.

"Shut up," Darrien spat. "Stop talking, put the key in the ignition, and fucking drive."

Remy shoved the key in the ignition and started the car. She grabbed the gearshift and put the car in reverse, backing up out of the parking lot before putting it in drive starting down the road. She kept one hand on the wheel, reaching over and grabbing her seatbelt with the other.

"I want you to go to the intersection then turn left," Darrien said. She leaned back against the seat and dropped the gun back down to her lap again. "After that, turn right at the stop sign."

Exhaling, Remy chewed on her lower lip and kept her eyes on the road. She tried to determine where the directions were taking her in her head, but nowhere specific came to mind. Then again, she didn't go many places besides her apartment, the hospital, and a few local bars.

The light ahead was green but turned yellow as they approached it.

"Hit the gas," Darrien said.

Remy didn't question orders this time. She had had that gun pointed at her enough times to know one of these times the trigger would just be pulled. She pressed her foot down and accelerated across the intersection before the light went red.

_Turn right after the stop sign. _

It couldn't be that far ahead. Her foot felt like lead against the pedal and she shot a glance at the speedometer. Up ahead, apartment buildings turned into a large stretch of grass and several light poles. No amount of physics calculations or questioning the ability of airbags outweighed the sudden desire to escape. She sped passed the stop sign and, before Darrien could say another word, drove straight into the nearest pole.

xxxxx

The world flickered for a moment.

Remy slowly lifted her head off the steering wheel, blood trickling down her face. She glanced to the side where Darrien was already exiting the car, even more blood on her. The streets were empty, but the crash had to alert someone in the nearby apartments. She unbuckled her seatbelt then pushed her door open and stumbled out of the car, landing on her hands and knees on the gravel.

Darrien stumbled around the back of the car, struggling to stay on her feet. A large gash just above her eyebrow was spilling blood down over the side of her face. She wiped at the crimson liquid, only managing to smear it. "Get up," she demanded, trying to hold onto the gun.

Not bothering to brush the dirt off her hands, Remy lifted her fingers to her face. The blood was coming from her nose, and possibly even from her lip. It was impossible to tell when her entire face hurt and blood was going everywhere. She lifted her head and glanced around, refusing to look at Darrien. Her chances of being shot had just gone up by a ten fold. Lights were on in a few apartments. The brightness created spots in her vision that lasted several seconds after she looked away. Someone had to have heard them crash.

Darrien must have realized why she was stalling because she quickly looked around then immediately stumbled forward. She grabbed Remy by the arm and roughly hoisted her up onto her feet. "Move," she said, trying to push her forward.

Remy began walking, unsure of where they were going. Everything was blurry and nothing felt real. It wouldn't have shocked her if she was still back in the car, unconscious from the impact. Despite the pain that seemed to tear through her entire face, she pinched her nose shut in attempt to stop the bleeding. Her heart was thumping in her ears and her stomach dropped further each time one of her feet hit the ground.

A door to the right of them opened and a young woman carrying a toddler on her hip rushed outside. "Are you okay?" she rushed to get out, stumbling over her words. "I should call 911." She barely gave the totaled car a glance, staring wide-eyed at the two injured women instead.

Darrien hid the gun between herself and Remy, tapping it against the young doctor's tailbone as a warning to keep her quiet. "We're fine," she stated in a disturbingly calm voice. "We'll call from our friend's house. He's just down the road." She stopped walking at the stop sign.

The woman with the child didn't look so sure. "You shouldn't be walking," she said, far more panicked than Darrien or Remy. "I can call an ambulance, I can find your friend…" she offered, looking around.

"We're fine," Remy whispered, the gun repeatedly being tapped against her lower back. She worried for the safety of the mother and baby. "Actually, maybe…" She rubbed her forehead with the hand that wasn't holding her nose. "Maybe you could give us a ride to his house. D'you have a car?"

The woman nodded almost immediately. "I'll go get my keys," she replied before turning and rushing into one of the apartment buildings.

Remy watched her go, feeling like she was staring at a ray of hope slipping through the cracks. She shot a glance at Darrien then turned at the stop sign and attempted to pick up her pace so the woman wouldn't try to catch them when she came back outside.

"You could make quite the con-artist with a little work," Darrien told her.

"I was protecting her," Remy replied. She ran her tongue over her lower lip. It was definitely bleeding. Turning her head to the side, she spat some of the blood onto the sidewalk. The world kept tilting on its axis and she wasn't sure how much longer she could stay on her feet. She suspected she had a concussion and it wouldn't be of much surprise if Darrien had one too. From the looks of it, they had both hit their heads pretty damn hard. "Where are we going?" Remy asked.

Darrien stopped outside an off-white building. Most of the lights in the windows were off, as they were in the surrounding buildings. She glanced at her hand where an inky address was smudged across her skin. "We're going here," she answered before pushing the door open and letting herself into the hall.

Remy followed her, trying not to drip blood all over the tiled floor. "Why?" she asked. "Andre live here?" They stopped outside room five.

"Knock," Darrien said, nodding toward the door.

Narrowing her eyes, Remy shook her head. "It's one of your friends," she replied. "You knock."

Darrien lifted the gun. "I've about had it with you-"

Remy took a step forward and pounded her fist twice against the door. _Again with the weapon. _By now, she had been held at gunpoint enough that it was beginning to make her slightly immune to the fear that came with it, but that didn't mean she enjoyed it. She stood back again and stared at the door. "There's probably no one even home," she said. "Or they're sleeping like a normal person."

The door flung open. "Because normal people…" what started out as a possible snide remark trailed off into silence as Chase stood there looking at the two women in front of him. "What the hell happened?" he asked.

"Fuck," Remy whispered under her breath. She dropped her hand from her nose, the blood beginning to make a stream down the lower half of her face and soak into her shirt again. She had followed her right to Chase. If she had known where they were going, maybe she could have thought of a better distraction.

Chase grabbed her by the shoulder and half pulled her inside his apartment. He raised a finger and pointed it at Darrien. "Get out," he said firmly. "I'm calling the cops."

"She has a gun," Remy told him before Darrien even had a chance to act with the weapon.

"Get your keys," Darrien said. "We need to go."

Chase looked dumbfounded. "You need _stitches_," he corrected, looking at the cut across her head. He turned to look Remy over. "The two of you aren't going anywhere." He tried to motion Darrien inside.

"Well then you better hope the _three_ of us find somewhere to pick up a sewing kit on the way," Darrien said, lifting her hand and touching the gash on her head. "Pick up your keys before you don't have a hand to pick them up with."

Chase stared at her for a moment before looking at Remy. She had her jaw clenched and her eyes focused on the ground. Trying to ignore the anger already beginning to boil in his gut, he snatched his keys up from the stand beside the door then stepped outside his apartment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Super: **I'm not a big hopeless romantic with Chase/Thirteen, so you don't gotta worry about that. Heh.  
><strong>Athyna: <strong>Idk if I'll be updating WOfthR. No muse.  
><strong>Christine: <strong>Thank you!  
><strong>Manny: <strong>Thanks!  
><strong>Jenni: <strong>Damsels in distress are overrated.  
><strong>Chase: <strong>5 words. Can I have yo numba? ...and I'm not making Chase be a knight in shining armour. He can't even handle Cameron drowning him with a kitchen sink hose!  
><strong>Mira: <strong>Eh. It's not that hard to find out where people live. Er...not that Ik from experience or anything. Lol.  
><strong>Awesome: <strong>Thanks! I have a writing style that you either love or hate, apparently. Glad a lot of people around here seem to love it.  
><strong>Panda: <strong>Thank you!  
><strong>Mani<strong>: This is a story. It's words put together for your reading pleasure. Baha. Why are you all convinced Chase has to rescue them?  
><strong>Lucky13: <strong>Thanks. Glad to know they're still in character. I'm trusting everyone to let me know if they get too ooc.  
><strong>Famous: <strong>Your review made me grin. What a confidence boost. I wish I had time to reply to it in more detail, but I need to get this update done before I leave. Thank you so much!  
><strong>Noelle: <strong>K...I'll be sure to include some rough sex in chapter 564574645. Keep reading. xP

Thanks to Vanamo for beta-ing.

In case you haven't heard, Wilde For World is doing a video project for Olivia. You should all message wfwproject at gmail to get more info and get involved!

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

"We need to stop somewhere," Chase growled, bracing himself against the car seat in front of him as Darrien swerved into another lane. He sat sideways with one leg curled on the seat in front of him. He kept his eye on Darrien through the mirror, unconvinced that she was alright to drive with a head injury. He had tried to adjust his seatbelt the best he could so he could still sit facing Remy with it on. She had gone through most of the tissues in the travel-sized pack he kept in his glove-compartment trying to stop the bleeding. It was slowing down and the streaks of red leaking down her arms were beginning to dry. Despite her efforts to keep from getting blood all over Chase's car, dark splotches stained the seat and window from where she had rested her head.

"She's not going to stop," Remy answered when Darrien didn't appear to be interested in answering him. Her voice was muffled by her hands and the tissue she was holding up to her nose and mouth. "The police are going to catch on once they find my car." She too was sitting slightly sideways, leaning back against the door on the driver's side. Her head lulled to the side against the seat but she did her best to keep from bleeding on Chase's car more than she already had.

"Someone is going to call them for reckless driving anyway!" Chase exploded as Darrien hit the brakes and he was jolted forward, but neither of the women seemed phased by the outburst. He reached forward to move Remy's hand and examine her face, but she weakly pushed his arm away. He would have frowned had he not already been scowling. "You lost a lot of blood," he stated matter-of-factly, trying again only to have her push his arm and readjust herself. "You could have a concussion from hitting your head."

"You don't think I know that?" Remy replied irritably, trying to swallow a lump in the back of her throat. The metallic taste in her mouth almost caused her to gag and she bit back tears, overwhelmed by the pain and the situation in general. "You're not the only doctor here." They had been in the car for less than thirty minutes, but it felt like thirty hours. She didn't bother apologizing for snapping, but just tossed the tissue in a plastic bag and grabbed another one from the pack.

"Well, maybe as a doctor, you should think about the consequences of running your car into a pole next time," Chase told her though didn't make another effort to help her.

"Well, maybe as a hostage, you should think about the consequences of not trying to get away," Remy retorted. She glanced out the window for a few moments, watching the headlights of other cars on the highway passing by them. It made her head pound harder and her stomach nauseous so she looked away again, staring at the floor.

"Well, aren't you two just a bundle of fun," Darrien mumbled dryly. She swerved to the other lane then lurched the car to the side and sped down the exit ramp.

Remy ignored her and glanced up at Chase again. If they were both going to get out of this mess, they were going to have to work together. "So far, so good," she murmured to herself sarcastically.

He arched a brow at her in confusion and opened his mouth to speak then shut it again and shook his head. "Where the hell are we going?" he asked, leaning back so he didn't have to look at the other woman through the mirror again. They were entering a wooded area and if it was possible to feel even more unsafe, he did. "You looking for a good spot to put our bodies or something?"

"If I kill you, I already know where I'm putting your bodies," Darrien replied calmly, focused on driving. She turned down another road and shut her headlights off. It was definitely possible for Chase to feel worse. "We're going to Andre's."

"Who's Andre?" Chase asked.

"Her drug-addict friend that stabbed her," Remy answered him bitterly. Her nose had definitely stopped bleeding now, but she held the tissue in place to mask the blood on her face. The pain at least provided a distraction from their situation. She wouldn't be surprised if it was broken. "Guess he has a summer home in the boondocks for friends that are running from the police."

"Probably rented out to him by a bear that used it to hibernate in the winter," Chase muttered as he glanced out the window. Civilization wasn't too far away, but it wasn't close enough for his liking. If they were to run, they would be walking at least a few miles until they came across someone's house.

Remy exhaled then closed her eyes. "The police are going to catch on where we are," she murmured. "Just a few miles outside of town, it's going to be obvious." The statement gave her a little bit of hope. "Haven't they already raided his house for drugs?"

"His apartment in Princeton," Darrien answered. "They don't know about this place." She slammed on the breaks in the driveway, causing both Chase and Remy to lurch forward against their seatbelts. "We're here." She flung her door open and stumbled out of the car.

It took a moment for Remy to recover from the impact of stopping. She chanced a guilty look at Chase, almost blaming herself for getting him involved. Technically, it was her fault. She was the reason Darrien knew who he was, and she should have paid more attention to whose apartment they ended up at. When he didn't look at her, she unbuckled her seatbelt and rubbed her abdomen for a moment before getting out of the car.

The cabin was worn down; it reminded Remy of an abandoned forest ranger's cabin from a movie she couldn't remember. The wood was rotting and the grass had grown up well past her ankles.

"He probably doesn't even own this place, does he?" Chase asked. He crawled out on Remy's side since she left the door open. Squinting his eyes, he swatted at a few mosquitoes flying past his face and leaned back a bit as he shut the car door.

"Who cares," Remy said, following Darrien as she silently walked to the door. "The police are going to be looking all over for her, and they aren't going to skip over this place."

Darrien glanced over her shoulder. "You're forgetting I used to be a cop," she said. "I know how to run from my own kind." The door squeaked as she pushed it open then ushered her two companions inside.


End file.
